


Love at First Hair

by ZoinksSc00b



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crack, M/M, Mpreg, This is a joke and might need to be burned to purify the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoinksSc00b/pseuds/ZoinksSc00b
Summary: Crys always thought his hair was the worst thing to happen to the GAR, but he was fucking wrong. Crasher was so so so so so so much worse and he couldn't wait to absolutely wreck him.Well, he should’ve expected their offspring would be the spawn of hair Satan.
Relationships: Crasher/Crys
Comments: 17
Kudos: 15





	Love at First Hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abunchoftookas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abunchoftookas/gifts).



> Born from the Discord server talking about the worst haircuts in the GAR

Crys had two things standing against him when it came to finding a partner: his alcoholism and his mustard-colored hair. He was working on the first one and, as long as Cody never found out the weekend was his free time, he had been sober for three months.

The mustard was the problem.

And, damn, was it a problem.

His hair was naturally the color and whenever he tried to dye it black like his brothers' (even brown, pink, blue, green, grey, white, or the time he tried plaid) it would just revert back to the mustard. The yellow absorbed the dye like it was nothing.

Crys feared it was sentient.

He could get away with a one-night stand, but, as soon as the possible match saw his hair that had been previously hidden by the dark of night or a cap, they ran away screaming in absolute terror. He had gotten arrested once because of how much he had frightened a natborn with his hair, but the officer let him go accidentally after being blinded by the neon locks.

So, that left him with one choice: finding someone with worse hair than him.

He had initially been annoyed when Cody brought him along to Kamino to scout for possible recruits, but, after a few hours of those little brats gaping at his hair, someone caught his eye.

The vod was otherwise attractive with nice, golden-brown eyes. The cadets who were surrounding him seemed to respect him and there was almost a tenderness in his gaze as Cody complimented their kih'vod. He also had a great ass that Crys couldn't complain about.

Yet, the best feature hadn't been his stunning smile, sturdy build, rock-hard abs, or flexible legs: it was his hair. It was like he went up to a barber, shouted "Forehead," and the barber was infuriated by the outburst to the point of ruining his life. It was like he paid the nearest toddler aspiring to be a hairstylist.

It was beautiful.

His receding hairline went to the back of his head. The hair went over his ear in a straight line that cut through his skull like a razor. The haircut made him come off as an old man who beat his kids and now the internalized remorse over his lack of familial bonds had resulted in him yelling at the neighbor's kids for existing too loud.

Crys was going to tap that if it was the last thing he did and it might be because he would probably die of shock after having sex with someone with hair like that (He could finally understand the horror of his past lovers.).

How could he have possibly stopped himself from screaming out into the crowd of soon to be traumatized children with a, "Damn, bitch. What's a fine ass like yours doing in a place like this?"

Despite the frozen stares of petrified children, the ugly man responded, "Why don't you get over here and find out?"

And, Force, did Crys find out a lot about Crasher that night in his bunk.

\------

Easily the most pleasurable and consequential fact he learned about Crasher was his distaste of contraception. Crys hadn't minded at the moment because the weekend was his time and he was a bit tipsy. Honestly, being tipsy (i.e. blackout drunk) made Crasher's hair a lot more fuckable.

Also, he wasn't lacking in the lower regions by any means. If anything, he was above average, for clones as well, and it was effortless to enjoy the feeling with closed eyes (and pretend that he was getting absolutely demolished by General Krell who had been his shiny crush. Now, he was the face that got him through many of his heats. He just looked like he was packing and Crys wondered what he could do with his two extra hands.)

Crys just liked being pinned down and used, okay? Dammit, don't judge him: he was really sensitive and he'll probably cry. He had needs and sometimes those needs matched up with a man who didn't like the feel of a condom. At least Crasher couldn't run away screaming like everyone else. He didn't even seem to mind the mustard hair which made Crys feel weird and gooey inside like a burnt marshmallow that had been burned for the sick amusement of a demented child who loved the taste of ash and fear.

Crys was creepy as hell when he was a kid. Pretty sure he bit someone's ear off...or maybe it was last week during a fight at 79's? Oh well, his life was a blur.

What was he doing again?

_Right_ , he was getting pounded by Crasher.

It was okay. He could have been a little rougher and maybe if Crasher wasn't the ugliest person in the GAR it would have been decent. Crys wasn't one to criticize out loud unless he was being his usual whiny-bitch self. So what if he gave Crasher a few pointers afterward? His form was awful.

And maybe he was a tiny bit offended that Crasher hadn't claimed him.

He got even more offended when he started getting sick a few weeks after their night of passion. That damn bitch left a little freeloader behind and Cody found his secret stash so he was dealing with it sober.

Cody had something along the lines of, "Crys, you need to be responsible for once in your life and get your act together. You're going to be having a pup, so tell the sire or I'll ship you to Kamino myself."

Manda, he hated that man with all his being. Crys at least had the decency to not ogle their general as if he was a vod after three weeks of starvation and there was no food around. (How was Crys supposed to know the Kaminoans were going to trap them for that long? Whatever. It was a memory alcohol could...fuck. He couldn't drink anymore.)

The stupid damn baby that was making him bloat and making him even more disgusting than he was before. He didn't even really appreciate the parasite's existence until Waxer asked him if his roots were finally growing in.

Crys wanted to call Waxer an idiot who needed to get his eyes checked and jokes re-evaluated because he sounded like he had the maturity of a six-year-old cadet. But, the baby decided to make him rush to the refresher to throw up his soul, so Waxer was safe for now. After absorbing his soul, Crys finally caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He shrieked at what he saw and punched the glass until he couldn't tell the difference between his hand and the shards.

There was black hair growing amongst the mustard. It was as if the mustard had been dye and his natural hair was coming back.

But...

Had he been hallucinating the whole thing? Did he really have black hair? No, he couldn't have. He knew it had always been the bright, neon yellow, but it helped grow the doubt in his mind. His sanity had never been the most stable thing ever.

Nevertheless, he was thankful when the mustard was completely overtaken by black. It helped boost his confidence since he could no longer see his feet. Didn't want to see them, so it wasn't that bad. He was slightly chubby, but he was hot so fuck y'all. Y'all being Cody and his stupid Jedi boyfriend. They didn't say anything. He just loathed them and their healthy relationship with a "respect for boundaries". Crys didn't know what that was, but it sounded like they stole his secret stash for their own selfish gain.

Cody did eventually have to force him to tell Crasher because there was no way he was going to seek out that di'kut on his own time. Cody had to wrestle him into the room on the Negotiator where he would be meeting with Crasher. Crys didn't think it would take long for Crasher to find out he was pregnant. He had a very obvious bump that had forced him to retire the top part of his armor. The pup seemed excited about finally getting to greet their sire because he was cramping and he wanted to curl up into a ball to cry at the sensation.

However, Crys almost didn't recognize Crasher when he first eyed him. Looked him up and down, appreciating the view, before Crasher introduced himself. He didn't recognize Crys either.

He looked kind of...handsome? Crys didn't mind this version of Crasher being his baby daddy.

Crys doesn't know how to explain but somehow their hair got better at the same time. It was like they were connected or some cadet had just glued a decent amount of bantha fur to Crasher's forehead. It was a common prank on Kamino, but it was too nicely styled for that shit.

"I thought you were a natural blonde?" Crasher interrogated.

"I thought you were naturally a disgusting whore," Crys countered.

Crasher huffed, peeking at the bump for a moment, "Felt like a change was necessary and, besides, who's the lucky guy to knock your dumb ass up?"

Clearly, it was a joke, but Crys couldn't help smirking at the irony as he placed his hand on top of his bump, "You."

The way Crasher paled was so satisfying that Crys didn't notice that his water had broken.

\------

After thirteen hours of waiting and moderate pain (He felt electrocution was a little worse, but it hadn't lasted hours so it wasn't a fair comparison), their pup was brought into the world.

A mistake that the world would have to deal with for at least...eleven years? Honestly, it depended on how long the war lasted because that was the average age expectancy for clones.

The medic passing out as soon as the baby was placed on his chest was not the greatest sign ever, but beggars can't be choosers. Crasher had to step over their collapsed form on the floor (Crys thinks they might have received a concussion) so that he could catch a glimpse of their son.

"I don't know if I should be impressed or revolted," was an appropriate response to their son.

"Revolted is where I'm aiming," Crys gave his opinion as his nose wrinkled at the smiling pup.

Somehow, it looked like their son's hair had absorbed all the dye Crys had used over the years and his original hair color to get the most puke brown Crys had ever seen. Crys tried to rub it off to see if it was vomit, but that sucker stayed on. He was oddly slimy even after being cleaned up, and Crys knew it was permanent. It was just a layer of this slick and sticky substance that Crys had to violently shake off his fingers every time he touched his son.

The terrifying combination of Crys' hair color and Crasher's haircutting skills (which was genetic apparently) had given them the hair antichrist.

How to describe the atrocity that was his son. This was his eternal damnation. This was his punishment for his vices. He had died during childbirth, and that was the only acceptable explanation.

Because what the fuck?

What the _fuck_?

His baby had hair. Not a full head of hair. Just _hair_.

It took a lot of fast blinking and confused stares to fully register what the hell was going on. Crys doesn't know how but someone had run a razor through the middle of both his eyebrows leaving only the edges left to fend for their already damaged reputation. He had an extremely defined hairline. In fact, he only had a thin strip of hair where his hairline was, and it fell off his rosy cheeks into two curly strands. Crys wanted to rip it off, but it wasn't the worst part.

What was worse was that there was more hair.

There was a line running from his hairline to the base of his neck, cutting through his skull. Two deformed blobs on either side of the string (?) were best described as horrendous. There was a touch of yellow that could be found in his hair (If it could be called that) and Crys was pretty sure that was where his color went. It was a nauseating ombre from shit to piss all over his head in the few areas where skin was sadly covered.

When a fly landed on the side of his son's face, he wasn't that surprised when his son just shifted his mouth a little bit in order to eat it. Honestly, he didn't know if anything could surprise him now. He was cute in an ugly way. He was also ugly in an ugly way. Planned on shaving the hair off, but something was telling him it would virtually impossible to do. Just a shadow in the back of his head that was snickering and laughing maniacally. Crys wondered who that could be.

It took them a while to name their son who was joyfully eating bugs that seemed oddly attracted to him as they mused over the possibilities. For a bit, they considered just giving him a number because did he deserve a name? But, after much deliberation, they found an appropriate name to effectively describe their hellspawn.

Skidder Mark.

**Author's Note:**

> [ This is a link to the Discord server I mentioned ](https://discord.gg/wRa8SpKJ)
> 
> [ Some art of Skidder Mark ](https://an-anxious-alpaca.tumblr.com/post/636781975067328512/love-at-first-hair-zoinkssc00b-star-wars-all)


End file.
